Chapter 9 #3
It’s pure instinct that has me leaning forward to kiss Grady, lingering longer than I mean to. “You’re a good man.”
Grady brushes his fingers over the hair at my temple, sending a shiver through me at the light touch. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“I hate to break it to you, but I think most people already know.”
Grady growls and drags me back in for a longer kiss that makes the room spin and butterflies dance in my stomach.
I wobble a little going down the hallway. I’ve clearly had too much juice; someone needs to cut me off. Hades follows me, weaving around my legs, which doesn’t help. But if I trip, it won’t be the first time.
It’s easy to decide which bedroom to pick: the one furthest away from us. I have plans for Grady’s hot body that I don’t want a teenager to overhear. And waiting until we’re alone in the house again sounds like a nightmare. I’m not a saint, for Christ’s sake.
When did someone use this bed last? I… have no idea.
Probably Zach and Felix? That doesn’t say much for whether it’s clean or not.
They’re not exactly celibate themselves.
Best to strip it just to be sure. After I take off the sheets, the doona cover, and the pillowcases, I dump them in the basket in the laundry and then grab a new set out of the cupboard in the hallway.
It’s a darker set that Grady and I bought together.
Domestic house-stuff shopping. It was amazing, and I can’t wait to go again.
I’m determined to fix the lack of Grady’s favourite colour in the house.
I’ll paint the walls that colour if he wants.
And like… paint the carpets. No, that wouldn’t work.
Would it? No, I don’t think so. We’ll have to get new ones.
Once the bed’s set up—after shooing Hades off it at least a dozen times—I flick the blinds closed, open the vent that’ll let the central heating warm the room, and make sure that the touch lamps on either side of the bed are plugged in and switched on.
In the wreckage of the bathroom, I find a towel, a face washer, and a spare toothbrush.
Nice. Where did the toothbrush come from?
Do I have spares? Nah, had to have been Grady. I’m a terrible host.
If Riley needs anything else, he’ll have to ask.
Oh. He’ll probably need something to sleep in? It’s too cold for naked, even for me, and I have a Grady-hot-water bottle to snuggle up to.
We must have something between us that’ll fit the kid.
In the set of drawers in the bedroom, I find a pair of sweatpants and a large black T-shirt that has “NSWPD” in big block letters on the back.
I love sleeping in both. They might be a bit big for Riley, but it’s just to sleep in.
It’s not like we’re asking him to go walking down the street in them.
Grady and I don’t have actual pj’s. We should probably invest in some.
Maybe I’ll get some fun ones we can wear at Christmas.
Fun boxer shorts, at least; it’s fucking hot in December.
Grady and Riley have finished the dishes by the time I emerge and are working in tandem to make something that smells like hot chocolate. It better be hot chocolate, my hopes are already sky-high.
Without a word, we settle on the couch, Riley following us like a lost lamb.
One that is still waiting to be kicked. I’d like to find out who made him feel this way and kick them myself.
We watch an episode of some random reality-TV show—not the one Grady and I are engrossed in at the moment, but it’s not on tonight, which sucks.
We’ll have to start Riley’s education another night.
Riley doesn’t say much, other than a few comments under his breath that I’m sure aren’t complimentary. When he looks like he’s about to fall asleep in his empty mug, I declare that it’s bedtime. I’m tired—okay, I’m horny—and he has school in the morning.
“I need to make a phone call,” Grady says abruptly, standing. “I’ll take Hades out for his night walk.” Hades barks happily, already knowing the word “walk,” and races off after Grady. He comes back in a second later, grabs a random ball off the floor, and then disappears again.
I shrug when Riley sends me a questioning look. “Could be work related? He’s not mad.”
“He looked mad.”
“That’s just his face.” His incredibly handsome, grumpy face. “C’mon, I’ll show you where everything is.”
As soon as I open the bathroom door, Riley blurts out, “What happened to the sink?”
It’s… still on the floor where I left it. I was going to get back to it and got distracted. “I’m renovating. Well, sort of. You can wash your hands in the laundry or the kitchen.” I don’t actually know how to put it all back together. Grady will help me with that.
“Here’s your bedroom for the night. Everything you might need is on the bed. If you go down this hall, we’re the last one on the right. Um, knock first.” Good advice, I think.
Riley looks confused for a second before wrinkling his nose. “Okay, eww.”
“I know, it’s so weird that an engaged couple would”—I lean in conspiratorially—“involve themselves in extramarital activities. I’ve made peace with the fact that we’re going to hell.”
“Do you have something I can play music on?” Red spreads across Riley’s cheeks. “Not—not because of that. I just like music, and I don’t have my phone or headphones, so…”
“I have an iPad you should be able to download music apps on? I think it’s in the lounge, I’ll go get it. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
He’s in the same place I left him when I get back. I doubt that’s how he gets comfortable. I can’t blame him for still being on edge. Unfamiliar house, unfamiliar room.
“You have to pull back the covers on the bed so you can get in,” I helpfully point out as I hand over the iPad.
“There’s no code or anything. And it’s empty.
Do whatever you want with it.” I don’t even remember why I bought it.
A new one had just come out, and I decided I needed it.
Avery grumbled at me about it, used it to draw for a week, and then gave it back, declaring it a terrible waste of a thousand dollars.
I don’t think he has a leg to stand on, considering what he paid for his specialty drawing table, but whatever.
He’s probably not wrong. Now it kind of just drifts around the house, a pretty ornament.
“Thanks.”
“Let me know if you need anything. If you get hungry, feel free to raid the kitchen. If it’s there, you can eat it. Don’t touch the alcohol.”
Grady’s in the kitchen, feeding Hades and putting his phone down when I go back in. He has a notepad in front of him on the counter and twirls a pen in his hand.
“The only good thing about Riley’s foster parents is that they answer their phone when I call. The rest? I have nothing nice to say.”
I bend a little to give Hades a scratch on his head, and wait for him to continue.
“They don’t care if Riley stays the night, so long as he’s still breathing in the morning. Maybe because I’m a cop, they think that Riley is safe. It’s a dangerous assumption to make.”
“Charming.” I make room for myself against Grady’s chest, my cheek resting over his heart. The beat’s soothing; I could stay here and listen to it all night. “I know that voice,” I murmur. “What are you going to do?”
“Just going to do some digging and find out more about them. Send some uniforms to their house to ask some uncomfortable questions. Make sure he’s being looked after.”
“Won’t do it yourself?”
“Not yet.”
Probably for the best. Grady’s not exactly subtle or backward in coming forward. Better if he cools down first before he gets actively involved. The foster parents must have said something specific to get his ire up like this. He’s grumpy but not irrational.
Grady’s olive-green eyes meet mine, and what I was about to say—I have no idea—dries up in my mouth at the sight of him.
The fire in his gaze only makes the one inside me burn brighter.
Everything about him calls to me, makes me yearn for him.
I even find myself thinking about him mid-flight; he’s the only thing that has ever been able to distract me in the air.
His mouth settles hungrily over mine, and I melt.